


Your Reputation Precedes You

by NotFromMars



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Crack? Maybe?, Gen, Just the Doctor causing chaos in space like usual, The Doctor (Doctor Who) Uses They/Them Pronouns, This really is just utter chaos and absolutely nothing else, can be read as any doctor, there is one (1) swear word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-31 06:41:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21101873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotFromMars/pseuds/NotFromMars
Summary: Most people the Doctor meets when traveling don't know anything about them. Those that do have very different reactions depending on what they have and haven't heard. I just took every possibility I could think of and put them in a room together. Chaos ensues.





	Your Reputation Precedes You

“I’m the Doctor.”

  
The reactions of those within earshot were immediate and varied wildly. There were a few scattered “Doctor who?”s and “Doctor of what?”s, as was typical, and then at least one “Holy shit.” A couple of Andromedans sitting at the same table exchanged a brief glance before one of them screamed and dove under the table and the other ran out of the room. A maintenance bot whose programmer had made the mistake of granting it both free will and an understanding of sarcasm muttered that it supposed Santa Claus was on board, as well. An old lady with green skin and four arms proclaimed loudly that they were all saved as she collapsed into a nearby chair, spilling her cocktail and angering the Adipose who she had failed to realize was already occupying the chair. The Adipose extracted itself, stood on the woman’s head, and shouted something about a dead nanny in a language that nobody present save the TARDIS translation circuits could interpret.

  
It was around this time that the rest of the room looked around to see what had caused such uproar, but were saved the need for investigation when a human asked much too loudly, “Doctor, why is everyone freaking out?”

  
Pandemonium reigned. At least ten people pulled out weapons and aimed them in the general direction where they suspected the Doctor to be (three of them actually got it right), and half a dozen more instinctively activated their species’ threat responses, causing one to turn invisible, one to puff up like a five-foot-tall beach ball, and one to excrete toxic gas, forcing them to sprint from the room and into a quarantine chamber so as to avoid poisoning everyone present. Eight or so people fell to their knees and started praying to the gods of their choice (one of them, it later turned out, was in fact praying to the Doctor; when they found out about that particular cult, the Doctor at least had the decency to say “oops” and look sheepish). One humanoid figure ran up and hugged the Doctor before disappearing once more into the crowd. In the back of the room, a many-tentacled something-or-other downed the rest of their drink in one gulp and immediately headed to the bar to order three more.

  
“It would seem,” the Doctor said upon remembering how to operate their vocal chords, “that I have a rather… interesting reputation around here.”


End file.
